


Adults After Tomorrow

by Moon Faery (tsukinofaerii)



Series: Growing Up [3]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe, LGBTQ Character, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-30
Updated: 2010-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-10 21:00:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/104233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsukinofaerii/pseuds/Moon%20Faery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sora finds out that no matter how far behind you've left your past, you can never be rid of it entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adults After Tomorrow

Warm night air blew in from the cracked window as Sora wrapped blankets around him contentedly, drifting somewhere between asleep and awake. Riku's solid weight next to him kept pulling him closer to the center, requiring even more cocooning to stay on his own side of the bed. A pile of black and gold fur Sora had named Mutt sprawled over his feet, occasionally woofing in her sleep.

_Riiiiiiing._

The phone jarred through his consciousness like a hammer. Sora growled and tried to dig himself deeper into the bed, ignoring it.

_ Riiiiiiing. Riiiiii-click._

Riku's voice murmured quietly in the dark. The sound stopped, then a sharp elbow jabbed Sora in the side.

"Grng."

"Wake up. Phone."

"Mph. No."

Sora cracked his eyes and glared at the bedside clock. The red glow bounced off the gilded edges of the twins' graduation invites, lighting the whole table in a way that Sora decided was malicious. The digital display flashed just past two in the morning as Riku elbowed him again. He fought his way out of the wrapping of blankets he'd built for himself, glaring blearily at his lover in the dark.

"What..?" Sora groaned, sitting up. "Tell Trish we don't have her casserole dish and that some people have _jobs_ and don't appreciate pre-dawn phone calls."

Riku didn't look any happier about being awake than Sora felt. "Not Trish. Some woman." He shoved the handset at the other man, then tugged on a quilt. Mutt rolled over as she was jostled, setting firmly on Sora's knees with a disgusted look. "Give over, blanket hog."

"You love me anyway." Sora flopped back on the pillow, but didn't fight when Riku stole a comforter. Mutt took care of that for him, remaining entrenched as she was hauled to the other side of the bed with the blanket. "Get _off_," Riku grumbled at her, shoving half-heartedly at her side. She just stretched out on the blanket lazily.

Even half-asleep, Sora found himself smiling at their antics as he pressed the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Sora?" The soft, worried voice on the phone was a splash of ice water straight into his veins. "Sora, is that you?"

"Mom?" He sat up in bed, suddenly wide awake. Riku shifted closer, listening.

"Oh God, I was afraid you wouldn't answer." The words tumbled over each other, so quiet he had to strain to hear. "I don't know what to do. Your sister isn't home and the neighbor's phone is ringing to voicemail and I couldn't think of anyone else to call--"

"Calm down." Sora tried the authoritative tone he used at work, when panicking people were watching their lives burn away. "Take a few deep breaths. Slowly... In, out. In, out." He heard her follow him, until her breathing was more regular. "Now, what happened?"

When she spoke, her voice was much calmer, though it still held a tremble Sora didn't like. "Your sister-- Jenny-- she keeps me up to date. I keep your number in my purse, just in case."

"Does Dad know?" Riku's arm wrapped around his waist, a warm weight anchoring him to the present. A cold nose pressed into his armpit as Mutt tried to snuggle into them both. "Is that why you're calling? Did you two have a fight?"

"No... No, not at all." Her voice was shaking again. "It's your father-- we're in the hospital on twenty-seventh. He's had a heart attack." She choked on the words, then hiccupped. "They-- They don't think he'll make it."

The middle dropped out of Sora's stomach. From a distance he heard himself say, "He won't want me there."

"Sora, _please_," she pleaded. He could hear her crying, a quiet whimpering sound that twisted in his chest. "I-- I don't think I can do this alone."

He wanted to snap at her or hang up, but in his head he could see her all alone at the hospital. The last time he'd talked to her, she still hadn't been able to pump her own gas. She'd said it herself; there was no one else. Something in him crumbled at the thought. "We'll be there as soon as we can."

"We? Don't bring--"

"_We'll_ be there." He hung up before she could argue.

Riku's fingers stroked his bare hip under the blankets. "What do _ they_ want?" The resentment in his body language was clear even in the dark. Riku had never forgiven Sora's parents for the way they treated him.

Sora leaned down and kissed his cheek. "You're not going to like this, but I think we need a Mutt-sitter for the day."

***

Mutt whined and dug at the tile of the kitchen, half-flattened against the floor as she tried to ooze under a china hutch. Mr. Fluffikins, the elderly tom cat under the hutch, hissed a warning. Sora and Riku hauled at Mutt's collar to no avail.

"Leave the children, leave them," their hostess cajoled gently in an accent that wandered between regions like a band of gypsies. "He and Mutt are the best of friends. They will be fine."

"Trish, are you sure--" Riku began, but the older woman clapped her hands sharply.

"They will be fine. Come, you have a long drive to Central Island. We will have coffee and pasties, to keep you for the trip."

"We're kind of in a hurry..." Sora's father weighed heavily in back of his mind, but when Trish turned and gave him a politely blank look he couldn't make himself press things. "I guess a few minutes won't hurt."

"Good. I shall not let you face those _people_ empty of good food." The exasperation in the woman's voice was sharp, even as she bustled around her kitchen. She'd been heard to say that only a woman of older years could get away with the way she dressed, and since no one knew her age it didn't matter. No one would ever call Trish old. Sora still kept newspaper clippings from the time she'd beaten up a purse-snatcher at the grocery store. "I wish you would not do this to yourselves. It will only bring hurt."

"I said the same thing," Riku muttered.

Sora poked his lover in the hip. "It's just something I have to do."

Trish, second-mother and neighbor both, clicked her tongue in exasperation as she arranged pastries. She had never bothered to hide her disapproval of the way Sora's had parents treated him. "And you would not be yourself if you felt otherwise. At the least, you shall not be worrying about Mutt. She is a good dog."

"Thanks for taking her on such short notice," Sora smiled and tried not to wince as Mr. Fluffikins won free of Mutt and shot through the kitchen into the main room. The dog followed, paws scrabbling for traction on the tile. "I know it's a lot to ask..." He slid into a seat at the table, knowing better than to offer to help Trish in the kitchen. Riku followed his example in sitting down, but faced his chair towards the living room, wincing when something clanged loudly. Sora decided it was better not to look.

"Nonsense, darling." Bangles jingled as she waved the gratitude away and set the serving tray on the table next to enough pastries for a football team. "Simply remember me when she has a litter. A dog would be good company for an old woman and her cat, no?" Wrinkles formed around her eyes as she smiled broadly, making her seem like a harmless old lady for a handful of moments. Neither man was fooled. Sora kept newspaper clippings from the time she'd beaten up a purse-snatcher at the grocery store.

"We'll remember," Sora promised, silently resigning himself to at least one litter before they took Mutt in to be spayed. He helped himself to something unidentifiable covered in powdered sugar. Trish was eccentric, but she baked amazing food.

"Wonderful!" More jewelry jingled as she poured the coffee, chatter bright and clearly meant to distract. "There is a beautiful retriever whose mama I know. He is just ready to be a papa, and she would like for his first litter to be close to home. I shall make all the arrangements. Just you wait. Mutt shall be an excellent mama."

Sora bit into what turned out to be a raspberry doughnut and exchanged glances with Riku. As always, Trish had her own agenda. "Yeah, I guess she will be."

***

Riku was still making a case for turning around when Sora's battered Wrangler pulled up to the hospital after an hour-long drive.

"It's been ten years and _now_ she calls?" Riku asked for the third time as they parked. "If she's had our number for so long, why hasn't she called?" He slammed the car door. The sound echoed in the empty garage like a gunshot.

The driver's side door shut much more sedately as Sora tried to focus on each task individually. "She's still my mother." Two beeps pierced the darkness as Sora punched the lock button on his keychain. "And she needs someone there."

For all of his ranting, Riku was still aware enough of Sora's mood that he linked their hands without a prompt. "Someone. She doesn't deserve you, and she'd rather die than have me."

Playing with Riku's fingers was a welcome distraction from the looming glass doors of Island Regional, but it wasn't enough to calm Sora's revolting stomach. Shifting his grip, Sora brought Riku's arm up and over his shoulders, wrapping his own arm around him. It helped. "We're a package deal," he insisted as the glass doors _whoosh_ed open. "If she doesn't like it, we'll leave."

The lobby was a tomb at five in the morning. There were no cheerful families waiting to pick up grandma or people carrying flowers. The air was cold and stale with disinfectant, the ceiling so high that every sound echoed. The hairs on the back of Sora's neck stood up as he edged closer to his partner. Behind the gift shop teddy bears and bright paintings on the wall, it was a place people went to die.

He was saved from having to ask for help by a clatter of heels on the sparkling tile. His mother darted out of a hallway, clutching a small purse. "Sora! You're here!" Her eyes darted to Riku, then re-focused on her son. Riku's arm tensed at the slight, then loosened as Sora squeezed his waist. "Your father's in ICU. I haven't told him you were coming." She didn't make a move to go near them, just turned and headed to a bank of elevators just inside the hallway.

Time hadn't been kind to his mother. She looked frail in the harsh florescent lights of the hospital, as though her bones had turned to twigs that could snap any second. Blue veins showed clearly on the hand that held her purse. He'd never seen her without her make-up before, and there was nothing to hide the harsh lines etched into her face. When the elevator arrived, she hung close to the door, fidgeting. For the sake of his mother's nerves, Sora let Riku's arm drop.

Feeling like he had to make some sort of conversation, Sora asked, "So he's awake?"

"The doctors say he can hear me." Thin shoulders shook as she spoke. "He hasn't said anything. I've been trying to keep him company..." The elevator door dinged and slid open. "They'll only let in one person at a time. I'll see if the cafeteria has any tea while you're there."

Sora blocked the door with his foot. "I'm not here for him."

Her lips thinned and pressed together in a frown. "You should see him."

"He doesn't want me in there."

Riku pulled Sora out of the elevator. "She's right. Come on." The door closed on his mother's expression of relief.

Nervousness twisted Sora's spine. He could see the receptionist for the ICU out of the corner of his eyes. She was right in front of a sign reading "Immediate Family Only". Riku couldn't go in with him. It would just be him and a man who had made his adolescence hell.

"Sora." Riku's voice made him look up. His lover was smiling, but it looked forced. "You need to see him. You'll beat yourself up if something happens and you didn't say goodbye."

"I didn't think she'd want me to see him," Sora admitted. "I know he doesn't."

"Screw what they want. You need this." Soft lips pressed a kiss to Sora's forehead, then Riku gave him a gentle shove towards the receptionist. "I'll be here when you're done."

Nerves making his stomach dance, Sora painted on a brave smile and stepped up to the desk.

***

The person in charge of the waiting room was a plump older lady in kitten-print scrubs. There was an entire list of rules, regulations and hazards. She insisted on inflicting on him in a rapid-fire monotone, going through what felt like a whole book in less than three minutes. After being read the rules and checked in, he was shown to his father's bed. She left him there, staring at the curtains.

The Intensive Care Unit was cold enough to raise goosebumps on Sora's forearms and reeked so strongly of disinfectant that his nose hurt. He rubbed his arms, trying to stay warm while building his courage. The curtain was a utilitarian blue, without any of the flowers or cheerful things posted around the rest of the building. The walls were bare of non-essential things, and lined with expensive medical equipment. Just out of sight, someone was crying. If the hospital itself was a place people went to die, ICU was where they died painfully.

Before his nerve faded, Sora braced himself and slipped between the curtains.

His first impression was of wires and tubes everywhere. There was so much equipment that for a moment he couldn't see the figure on the bed. After a moment of shock, he started identifying breathing tubes and IVs and dismissing them to find the still body underneath.

A few gray streaks in dark hair were the only notable changes ten years had on his father. He was still a large man, built wide and tall, the exact opposite of his barely-average son. Skin that was waxy with illness still showed a dark tan, and lines that might once have been from smiling carved deep into the corners of his eyes and mouth.

Staring at him, Sora felt sixteen again. It made his stomach churn. "Hello Dad."

Pretenses of sleep dropped away as his father cracked his eyes, irises glittering blue behind thick lashes.

"I know you can hear me." There was no response, not even a blink. Sora eased into the hard plastic chair at the bedside. "I know what you're thinking. Riku and I are still together. He works in IT at the university. I'm a firefighter. I like it. It feels like I'm really helping people." The constant silence gnawed at him. In his head, Sora could hear a clock ticking, reminding him of how little time his father probably had.

"You know what? This is stupid." Sora's toe tapped the worn linoleum under his feet. Decorating expenses were obviously saved for more public parts of the hospital. "You'd kick me out if you could. Again. You don't want to make up, or even try to be civil. Even now, when this is probably it, you don't want anything to do with me."

His father blinked slowly, head lolling sideways to regard his son.

"You and I both know I won't get to say this again," Sora continued. "Because if you live, you're probably going to do your damnedest to make sure I can't get in here next time. I know I've done it to you." The silent gaze egged him on, dragging out speeches rehearsed and discarded years ago. "Listen up. I love you, Dad. You're a bastard, but I love you, and I forgive you for making my life hell. You don't want my forgiveness, but you have it anyways."

The older man stared at Sora for a long moment, then deliberately rolled his head to look away.

"I thought so." Sora stood, staring down at the failing body in the bed. He tried to find something to say, but nothing truly meaningful could push past the image of the dying man in the hospital bed. "I hope you get better... I really do." There was no response, but he hadn't really expected one. "Goodbye, Dad." He slipped back through the curtains and into the empty hall.

His mother was talking with a doctor when Sora passed through the doors. She looked on the verge of complete collapse, wringing her hands so hard one of her nails had snapped. In the dead silence of the ICU waiting room, their low voices were barely audible.

"I'm sorry," the doctor murmured, obviously trying to look sympathetic. "There's just nothing we can do."

"Nothing?" His mother's voice cracked with stress. "Not even a— a transplant or— or..."

"He wouldn't survive the procedure, even if we could find a heart. I'm truly sorry."

Sora hovered by the double doors as the doctor passed him, feeling awkward as his mother started pacing in short, mincing steps. He didn't think she even saw him, too wrapped up in her own grief to pay any attention to the outside world. Riku gave him a sympathetic look from where he lounged by the door.

An unexpected lump in his throat made Sora clear it before speaking. "Mom?"

Pacing was forgotten as his mother swarmed towards him. "Is there any change?"

"He can respond a little, but he didn't talk," Sora reassured her, unable to completely keep the pain from his smile. The doctor's words echoed in his head. Even over ten years of separation, all the memories he would never make with his father ached like a physical thing. "Mostly he just moves his head."

His mother didn't seem to notice his distance in his voice. Her arms came up like she might grab him, then froze in indecision. Something close to fear twisted her face. Then she stepped back, hands fluttering.

It was obvious Riku had seen the aborted touch. He glared at the woman and wrapped an arm around Sora's waist. "Are _you_ all rright?"

Sora leaned into Riku gratefully. "Better, I think," he answered around the sudden tightness in his throat. "We'd better get going."

"But—" Sora's mother took a sharp breath. "But you just got here, and--"

"No one wants us here. Not even you." Her eyes widened at Sora's accusation, but she didn't deny it. "Jenny will get home eventually. She won't let you do this alone."

"And you will?" The familiar edge of guilt had lost none of its sharpness over the years, but Sora was ready for it.

"You won't let me do anything else." Daring, he reached out and pulled her into a quick embrace. "Love you."

For a second he thought she might pull away the way she always had before, but her arms tightened in the tiniest of hugs. She felt like broken glass in his arms, sharp-edged and fragile. Then she pulled away, hands clenched in front of her.

"Can I... Can I call you? If Jenny doesn't answer?"

Pain twisted Sora's heart, but he forced himself to smile for her sake. "Sure."

"Thank you." The lines at the corners of her mouth deepened briefly before she fled towards the receptionist.

Sora pulled his partner back into the maze of hallways, mind fuzzy with the events and the late hour. The only thought he could be absolutely sure of was relief that they hadn't reserved a hotel room. Everything else was a blur of lows and lowers.

His father was going to die. Somehow, a life lived without him and the rock of his condemnation seemed both emptier and brighter. It made Sora feel sick inside to realize that a part of him felt like he was finally breathing for the first time in years. He stayed close to Riku, lost to his thoughts until the arm around his shoulder squeezed.

"You looked really upset when you came out of there." Riku's back was tight under Sora's arm, warm and more real than the pastel shades of the hospital walls. He focused on it, on the creases of shirt and dips of muscle. Anything to stop remembering. "You're sure you want to do this?" his lover asked again, voice low with concern.

Sora didn't answer right away, letting the feel of Riku beside him draw out the answer. There was a dreadful sort of peace in him that he couldn't categorize immediately, and wasn't sure he would ever be able to understand completely. "I think I'm all right," he replied slowly as they waited for the elevator to arrive. "I just— I wish..."

A strong hand gripped his shoulder. "It's okay. I know."

Sora's eyes closed briefly as emotion threatened to overwhelm him from all sides. He couldn't speak, could barely form a coherent thought around the flood. So he just rested his head on Riku's shoulder as they left the chill hospital behind for the balmy night outside.


End file.
